Bloom

17 | sister, sister

I sent her a text, notifying her of what I had done and she responded by calling me.

I declined it.

Petty or pussy? Probably both.

A bland text, stating that she'd be by to get him later on is our most recent bit of contact. I can't really gage her energy, but I know that she's pissed. Why wouldn't she be?

The truth is, confrontation unsettles my stomach, especially with the people that I love even when it needs to happen.

"All done." My dad sings, standing up and grabbing Jamari. He tickles him, making the child flail and laugh uncontrollably.

"Stop that!" My mother chastises, collecting their empty plates. "You gone make him have a stutter when he's older."

Black folks and their superstitions, boy I tell you.

"Alright, alright." My dad laughs heartily, rolling his eyes. "You ready to go take a bath, Mari?"

"Yes!"

My mom and I move through the kitchen together, putting away the leftovers, wiping down every visible surface, and loading the dishwasher before the thirty minute mark. By the time that we're done, Jamari is in his pj's half asleep as bedtime nursery rhymes play on the TV.

I pass the time by scrolling through social media, and when my nephew's breathing becomes heavy around an hour later, I relocate him to my bed.

Twisting the knob almost to the hottest setting, I step into the steamy shower, closing my eyes for a few seconds. I take my time, brushing my teeth and moisturizing my skin, hoping that the physical self-care routine seeps into my mind. Once I'm done, I choose to wear June's freshly washed oversized shirt. His scent is gone, but it's still a comfort for me.

The air outside of the bathroom is far more breathable and I greedily inhale it on my way to turn off the lights in the common area.

"Shit!" I jump, spotting Gabriella on the sofa, arms folded. "I didn't know you came in."

Her expression is blank as she eyes me and if I didn't know her better, I'd think she was indifferent about the entire situation. But I do know her, at least to some degree, and the emotion brewing behind her eyes gives her away.

Still, she remains quiet.

I sigh, plopping down on the sofa and running a hand down my face. The tension from this shit is exhausting. "Say whatchu gotta say, Gab."

"I just want to know why, Giselle." She shrugs harshly. "I thought I made myself clear the last that we spoke."

"You wanna know why I care about Jamari? You wanna know why I don't want you to isolate him from us? You want me to explain that again?"

"Don't you even — you don't care about him cause if you did, you wouldn't treat his mama like this." She sits up and her leg shakes as her anger rises.

"Treat you like what?" I scoff, throwing my head back. "Gabriella, I love you. We all do, but you don't treat us like you love us!"

"No, no, no, no." She stands, shoving her hands in her back pocket. "No."

"Yes."